


Sweet Passion's Fire and True Love

by freddiejoey



Category: Arthur of the Britons
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:06:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freddiejoey/pseuds/freddiejoey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The return of Benedicta.......</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Passion's Fire and True Love

Part One

“Arthur.” The cry comes wafting softly down the wind as I carefully guide my white horse down the slope above the village. “Arthur.” Again – ghostly and ethereal. Furiously I shake my head. I must be more tired than I know if my imagination is running such a riot. The latest campaign against the Picts has been particularly taxing with weeks of hard hand-to-hand fighting. Kai and Llud are still away to the north, leading a war band and chasing the last few wayward Picts back over their boundaries. But, God willing, they should be home tonight. And then there are Cerdig’s taunting offers of peace – which are still proving as fleeting as the will-o-the-wisps that I have seen winking across Brandreth’s marshland kingdom.

How many years has it been since she rode away on that misty morning with her Roman escort? At least seven. I turn the horse’s head, toward the village. The clouds are coming in, low and grey. Autumn rain on the way. And not only myself to protect against the elements now…Then abruptly I rein in my horse and halt. Coming toward me, across the meadow, riding sidesaddle on a decorously stepping black horse, is Benedicta.

I am certain at once that it is her. She had only been a part of our lives so long ago for a few months but the scars she had left behind on my heart and on Kai’s…….. Last time she had been wearing rough village homespun. Today Benedicta is adorned in all the finery of a princess of Rome – cherry coloured woollen cloak, jewelled pins in her golden hair, emeralds winking in her ears and at her wrists. Behind her horse marches a pair of young straight Roman centurions. Again I blink savagely. It cannot possibly be real – it is a waking dream or a nightmare……… But Benedicta stops just a few feet away, undeniable flesh and blood, - and still undeniably beautiful. She gives a cautious smile. “I suppose you are surprised to see me – after so long and under these circumstances. I must tell you that you look exactly the same – I could have left just yesterday. And you did once say when I caught those pieces of cloth on your tree, that one day I would return – so here I am.”

Those fragments of blue that Kai had furiously cast on to the fire…….. I nod formally. “Benedicta. You look well. To say I’m surprised to see you is stating the obvious .” I settle more comfortably on horseback and for the first time Benedicta notices what I have balanced protectively in front of me – a wide-eyed black-haired toddler, a little over a year old. Kaitlin looks back at this stranger with her steady blue gaze. “Yours?” Benedicta enquires pleasantly - a superfluous question anyway since it is quite apparent who has fathered her. I kiss my daughter’s satiny head. “Yes and Kai – you remember my brother? – he has two sons a little older.” I frown, becoming increasingly uneasy. “But you aren’t here to admire our offspring – not from half a world away. So why exactly have you come back?”

Slowly we begin the descent toward the village, the centurions following like silent shadows. Benedicta gives the countryside a sweeping glance and breathes in deeply. “Oh Arthur, I had almost forgotten how beautiful your land was. How green and pleasing . I have missed it so and when the opportunity to return arose…” I smile slightly as our encampment comes into sight. “What opportunity has arisen Benedicta?” She gives Kaitlin an appraising look before answering. “Your daughter is certainly self-possessed for one so young Arthur……Well, my husband is Drusus Messor, a Roman nobleman but with extensive estates still in Gaul. He is eager to establish trade links with your kingdoms here in the west – and he’s particularly interested in trading for your grain, your millet and your barley. Drusus is in Cornwall and since I already knew this area so well, I decided to come and negotiate with you. After all, I think we were more than friends once…..” Instinctively I tighten my grip on Kaitlin who squirms in protest. “Trade is something I too am anxious to discuss……..and of course, you must enjoy the hospitality of my village again.” Benedicta inclines her regal head in agreement…..

Rowena wads a last piece of clothing into her saddle bags – then stands and smiles at me across the longhouse bedroom. “I’m sure that I’ve packed too much – after all, I should only be gone for a week and Yorath’s village isn’t a land of savages.” I have been on edge all day with Kai still away. Theodore and Cedric have both been soundly smacked for fiddling with Rowena’s jewellery when it was laid out on her bed – prompting Rowena to laugh and remark that it was a good thing Llud was not around and I to give her an uncharacteristically sharp gesture in answer. Now Rowena lays a concerned hand on my arm. “I’m sure Kai and Llud will ride in before sunset and all will be well.” I nod and busy myself bundling her cloak and boots together. As Rowena leans her head to one side, listening, I look up curiously. “Arthur’s back – but that’s not Olwen’s voice or Esla’s….” Kai’s boys, now long past their affronted wailing, go running into the main room of the longhouse to find their uncle –I follow – and then feel the world tilting and darkening around me……

I am back for a moment in the midst of the hellish weeks all those years ago – watching Kai’s heart shatter, feeling my own break in response, slipping out during the dark of the moon to gather linden and henbane, drawing my trembling hand back from the black nightshade and the death cap, mending the results of that Yuletide ruckus in the stables that finally exorcised Benedicta’s memory…… Behind me, I sense Rowena rushing into the room. “Arthur, how did Kaitlin like……” and Rowena abruptly falters, startled by the sight of her daughter fidgeting in a tall elegant stranger’s arms – and even more startled when I unexpectedly swoop forward, retrieving Kaitlin. Benedicta smiles daintily . “I remember you – you’re Lenni, the little village healer. You showed me how to use cyrus leaves when I cut my hand.” Standing to the side of Benedicta, Arthur throws me what I judge to be an amused glance – and is shot a livid one in return. “Kai’s wife now – and the mother of these handsome boys.” He takes Rowena by the hand and draws her forward. “This is my wife Rowena, daughter of Yorath, King of the Jutes – and this is Benedicta, Princess of Rome. She’s here on behalf of her husband Drusus Messor. He’s interested in trade with us and Mark – in fact he’s in Cornwall now.” The incensed look that I continue to bestow on Arthur tells him quite clearly that Cornwall would be far too close a destination for Benedicta as far as I am concerned - that only the furtherest corner of the ocean or preferably the netherworld will do…………….

Furiously, close to tears, I thrust Kaitlin at Arthur and turn to go. From behind her supposedly guileless smile, Benedicta is assessing Rowena in her most supercilious fashion. I know what she is contemptuously making note of : Rowena’s cropped hair and boyish breeches and general lack of grandeur. With a sudden jolt I remember something else – Rowena has never been told about Arthur’s moonsick dalliance with Benedicta, certainly not that he had fully intended to marry her. Rowena had been away up north on Yorath’s business and by the time she returned home the whole calamity had been resolved. To her, Benedicta is just a royal visitor from the past, who once stayed in Arthur’s village while waiting for the Greek trader to put into port. And tomorrow at dawn Rowena leaves for Yorath’s kingdom…. Then, hard on the heels of this unsettling thought, comes another even more ominous speculation - whatever in the name of the gods is Kai going to say when he sees Benedicta again?

 

Part Two

Llud and I ride in just before sunset with the rest of our war band. Arthur stands outside the longhouse to greet us and counts our returning numbers. All accounted for - dusty, weary, and desperately in need of a comforting fire and plentiful mead, but no losses, thanks to his One God. He strides forward, clasping our father’s good hand, giving the other warriors his thanks, telling them to hasten home to their families – holding off the moment when his beautiful blue eyes will meet mine, like the most exquisite deferred gratification. Yet I am far more impatient and needy. I see him shiver as he feels my breath against his ear. “Come help me rub down my horse. I have something important to report about the last Picts to flee northward.”

Once in the solitude of the stables, I simply stand devouring my little brother with my rapacious gaze. Then his mouth is on mine, his lips firm and soft and warm. Greedy for yet more, I take in his smell – like the clean wind and lilac, like cloves and honey. But then the kiss changes and I can think clearly no more. Arthur stops holding my shoulders and pulls me against his body. “Welcome home, Kai my heart.” Smiling, he accepts the tip of my tongue into his mouth and begins to suck, at first lightly and then ravenously. My brother casts a trail of fire, down to my waist and beyond – so that I simply wind my arms around his neck and hold on……….

A little later I am tumbling around in front of the hearth in Lenni’s hut with Theo and Cedric – and becoming seriously worried about her. Usually when I ride in after being away for a matter of days, Lenni is standing beside the palisade waiting. But not today. I have collected our boys from Olwen and nothing seems right. Then, in the gathering darkness, I see her walking up past the longhouse towards me. Relief sharpens my voice. “Where have you been sweetheart? I was beginning to become frantic.” Lenni reaches up and feathers a kiss across my cheekbone. “I’m sorry. I was in the woods and I saw that you had returned safely. It’s only………” and she breaks into silent stormy sobs.

Now I am certain that everything has somehow been turned on its head. Lenni hardly ever cries – rages sometimes, looks daggers or scolds. However she seldom indulges in tears. I take a step forward, to draw her close but she forestalls me with an abrupt emphatic gesture. “Have you been to the longhouse yet? No obviously not, you still look as if your feet are able to anchor you firmly to the earth.” I cannot fathom what has made her so distraught. Arthur would have said if there was anything amiss with Rowena or Kaitlin. Trying to appease her, I take Theo by the hand. “Well, it must be time to go down and eat,my pretty one, so let me be surprised.” Lenni’s fingers stab out her answer so viciously that I think she will pierce a rent in the air. Actually a rift suddenly appearing in the heavens would be more rational than my wife’s savagely signed reply. I laugh in disbelief. “Sweetheart, that’s just silly.” But Lenni’s brown eyes are grim and unwavering……… I feel my heart turn to stone and my blood turn to ice. Yesterday I faced down the unbridled fury of the Pictii, the Painted Ones – yet them I could despatch with my axe – that she-devil from Rome has always been a much more elusive enemy……

I see at once that all Kai’s euphoria from his homecoming has vanished. He looks weary and depleted. I have been cowardly in not telling him - I owe him that and so much more. Already I have seen our father’s reaction – a quick flare of dismay and alarm, immediately veiled by Llud’s habitual courtesy. Now Benedicta sits resplendently at the longhouse table, looking around with her noble smile, remembering what?

Kai, she has greeted like a long-lost friend and of course, he is far too diplomatic to gainsay her. He sits at the end of the table, eating in a desultory fashion, drinking too much mead, not meeting my gaze. Lenni whisks around gimlet-eyed, noisily clattering bowls and goblets. Of us all only Rowena seems close to her customary self and she is intent on our daughter because tomorrow she must leave her. She needs to travel to Yorath’s village to preside over the Jutish Seat of Judgement with him. As I so badly need these trading opportunities that Benedicta is dangling in front of me. If we can exchange our grain for silver or bronze or barter, then it will supply the arms and battle horses that so desperately need replenishing. Our losses against the Picts have been heavy and Cerdig is still such a capricious threat. In their hearts Kai and Llud must both know that Benedicta is only here tonight because what she offers is necessary for the protection of my people. Why then do I feel that I have so failed them?

I am not surprised when Llud asks me to walk with him up to Olwen’s hut. My father has been very quiet all night – polite enough to Benedicta, as fulsome as ever with his grandchildren, yet I can sense his unease. When we are outside, Llud looks up thoughtfully at the night sky, painted with a dusting of frosty stars, and sighs. “Tomorrow I will travel with Rowena to Yorath’s village.” I have been expecting something like this - still I lay a concerned hand on his arm. “I have no doubt that she will welcome your company. But you must be tired. We all are – this last campaign……” Llud gives a snort of laughter. “Reminding me that I am five and twenty older than you won’t divert me from what I intend to say. “ He stops and turns to face me. “Although I will remind you that I am far too old to endure that spoilt princess down there wreaking havoc again. Arthur, I understand how important this trade could be for you, for us – how many men and arms and horses it could mean. Just remember what happened last time to Kai. No matter what, you must protect your brother. And then there’s Rowena - I love her as if she were my own daughter. Do what you must to bring about the best result – and then send Benedicta on her way. I would like to think that she will be well gone by the time I ride home again.”

Suddenly I am assailed by memory – another time when Llud had been equally earnest and determined. When I left Kai as hostage with Cerdig against a ransom of half our livestock. Then guilt and regret had made me harsher than I intended. Now however I believe that I have everything firmly within my control. I hope that my tone is reassuring as I leave Llud at the door to Olwen’s hut. “Don’t you trust me?” My father’s answering smile is wily. “Oh I trust you Arthur – I would trust you with my life and you know that. No, its Benedicta I could never trust. Heed your own advice to Kai from long ago – don’t be deceived by that angel face.” And then he is swept into Olwen’s welcoming embrace.

Despite the gathering cold I walk slowly back to the longhouse. This is going to be a finespun balancing act. Benedicta must be placated while the negotiations take place. Llud will be tense until he is sure she is safely on a boat to somewhere else. Part of me is relieved that he and Rowena will be away for a time – even if Rowena doesn’t actually know anything about my lovesick lunacy over Benedicta. Lenni is making her displeasure apparent through every rigid gesture. As for Kai….he is already deeply unhappy and with cause. After all, it was the girl from Rome who came closest to irrevocably dousing the blaze that sears us – abetted by my moonstruck-calf behaviour. Now by my cowardice I have allowed her presence to hurt him all over again.

I am still in the deep darkness at the side of the longhouse when I feel myself being enwrapped in something heavy and warm – my brother’s great fur cape. Thankfully I lean my forehead against his. “I’m sorry. I should have told you…..” I know that he is smiling. “Well little brother, I can’t say that entertaining Benedicta will be my favourite pastime but life is full of necessary evils.” Then his mouth claims mine and I am warmed by so such more than his cloak…….

The next morning Rowena and Llud leave at dawn. Today anything conspires to make me angry. Everything is awry and askew – as if you have seen the flash of lightening but the thunder fails to arrive. I see Arthur being more tender than usual with Rowena and choose to interpret it as some sort of remorse. The poor boy who provides me with goat’s milk for the children is sent back with another bucket to fill and a stinging rebuke from my flying fingers. Benedicta appears soon after from the guestquarters, draped in some opulent robe that may be commonplace in Rome but looks utterly absurd trailing through the mud of our village – and the silly bitch doesn’t have the horse sense to clasp up the hem. No doubt a browbeaten servant holds it in the air as she bustles about the Roman streets. With an enigmatic smile, she watches Rowena and Llud disappear amongst the trees beyond the river – and trips lightly into the longhouse.

Then Kai thrusts his lovely blond head around the door, “Lenni, sweet girl……” and all at once the thunder rushes in, roaring at my temples, pounding behind my eyes. “Kai, go to the longhouse. Do not leave his side until she is gone.” My fingers trip over each other in their haste. Kai nods. “ Alright if you feel…but I’ll need…” Before he can go on, I take his hand, press it to my lips and look into his beautiful brown eyes. “Your axe is hanging from your belt – you need nothing else. Please.” And he says no more.

Part Three

At first everything goes well. For most of the morning I sit at the longhouse table, quietly watching Arthur and Benedicta hammer out the finer details of their trade pact. Long long before I married her, I learned to trust implicitly in Lenni’s instincts – if she believes that something is amiss, then I am prepared to accept her intuition as readily as I would Llud’s twitching nose. Anyway, it is not my little brother I am concerned about – it is the alluring serpent opposite me. Today she is wearing something green that makes her honey coloured hair shimmer and her blue eyes glow. I can still recognise why I once so desired her (as even did Llud) – but the recognition is confined to my head: there is not the slightest flicker in my groin.

Arthur has said that Benedicta’s father Caius Camillus is reckoned to have one of the shrewdest minds in the civilized world - and his daughter has obviously inherited his perspicacity. The arguments she puts forward and the negotiating skills she displays would put to shame those belonging to many of the chieftains I have observed. I know that Arthur is clear and emphatic about what he needs from this arrangement – but Benedicta too wins a few telling concessions. When they break for the midday meal, most of the significant details are already in place. “Good” I think, highly satisfied. Soon there will be little or no reason for Princess Benedicta not to be on a speedy boat back to Gaul.

It is while Lenni is clearing the table that Benedicta tosses her head and looks, pointedly, pleadingly at my brother. “Arthur, I have not yet been able to appreciate the full beauty of your land again. I would so like to go riding this afternoon – take me, please.” Arthur gives a polite smile. “Certainly – if that is what you wish. I’m sure that Kai and I….” Benedicta bestows an equally polite smile on me. “ Kai, I would not want to take up your time unnecessarily. There must be a multitude of pressing matters that require your attention. As the chieftain’s brother and lieutenant, you are no doubt indispensable to the village.” If she supposes that her forked-tongued flattery will gain her anything………

I am quickly trying to think of a suitable reply when suddenly the longhouse is invaded by our raucous offspring – three shrieking children who look as if they have been unaccountably dipped in pig swill. At once Benedicta begins beating a hasty retreat from their filthy faces and even filthier fingers. Biting my lip hard to stop grinning, I turn to Arthur. “Lenni and Olwen must both be busy. And these children desperately need a bath. The big tub’s in the alcove.” I spread my hands in regret. “My apologies Benedicta. We will go riding another time. But you’ll remember how everyone is this village must fend for themselves – and that includes the fathers of muddy children.” Arthur fills a bucket with hot water from over the hearth. “You have a little boy don’t you Benedicta?” Rather stiffly she pauses beside the door. “Yes Drusus Anthony – he’s nearly four. But he has his own household. I don’t have to attend to his……everyday needs directly.” Then she hurries away. I start stripping off Cedric’s grubby breeches, grinning helplessly now – yes, definitely pig slop. Well, the first time she invaded our lives Benedicta did wail because she had been detained in what she described as our pig sty of a village. Resourceful girl, Lenni………..

In the afternoon Benedicta is whisked off by Olwen to be given a lesson in traditional Celtic jewellery making and Arthur and I, with a few others, go hunting for boar. There is a certain clearing in the forest where the king boar always seem to go to rut and that is where we start. Arthur looks around thoughtfully. “Funny. This is where I brought Benedicta years ago, on the afternoon that her Roman escort arrived. I waxed lyrical about how the fields are red with poppies in spring and Solomon’s seal winds around the trees.” He shakes his dark head roughly. “Come, let’s try and spear a boar before the light fades.” We have come out with three of our best hounds – a finder and two holders. Luck is on our side and it is not long before the finder is barking back to us that the holders have a boar cornered. Not a king animal it is true – but a sizable one nonetheless. No easy task for me and Tugram to grab the cornered boar by the hind legs and toss the beast over, while Arthur plunges a spear into its neck, angled down to the heart. No easy task for me either to let pass the craving in Benedicta’s eyes as she gazes at my brother riding up to the longhouse with the boar triumphantly slung across his white horse………

In fact it is almost from that moment that nothing suddenly seems so simple any more. That night I lie beside Arthur – my cleft still thrilling from the memory of his hardness thrusting inside me, still moist and milky from oil and seed – and remember all the despair that Benedicta has wrought in her wake. Hanging on the wall is my treasured Saxon war axe, the blade made of hardened metal of the best quality and mounted on an ash handle. It was Arthur’s Yule present to me, at the close of that year when I prayed to die in battle each time I rode out with my men – endeavouring to breathe each day with a heart so blighted that not even the thought of Llud’s sorrow seemed enough to dissuade me.

I think of Benedicta as she was at the longhouse table tonight – undoubtedly charming, decidedly enticing. She laid a hand admiringly on Arthur’s arm. “So, did you find the boar in that forest clearing where you once told me that there would be penalties for laughing at the misfortunes of a Celtic chieftain?” Arthur gave her an amiable smile and turned the conversation to the paradisal nature of Rome. Now I burrow my face against his shoulder and he nestles around me in sleep. In a day or two Benedicta must join her husband in Cornwall - I can certainly shield my little brother until then.

And yet I fail utterly. The next morning an emissary arrives from Mark with the details of the trade agreements he has forged with Drusus. He and Arthur are busy with parchments and maps - and although Benedicta is hovering around them, I don’t imagine that anything illicit can be attempted with such a stout Cornishman in the room. So when Arthur asks me to ride out to our fields of barley and millet and make final tallies of our expected crop yields, I see no reason to demur. I may be a warrior and a hunter, rather than a farmer, yet I am still one of only a few in the village who can write and reckon tolerably well.

As I ride out I pass Lenni who is preoccupied with the three children. Playfully I blow her a kiss. The look of alarm she gives in response stays uneasily with me all morning……. It is noon by the time I return. I know at once when I walk my horse into the stables that the witch woman has beguiled him again with her wiles. And I am swallowed up by anxiety : Arthur’s white horse is gone and so is Benedicta’s black filly.

I could not insult her and refuse to go. Once Mark’s emissary had concluded his business, there was no immediate reason to delay her request – and I must be careful not to offend her before she leaves for Cornwall. From somewhere Benedicta has acquired a pair of breeches so she can sit astride. Now as we ride up past the forest, I glance at her musingly. There have never been a myriad of women in my life. For years Kai was always leagues ahead of me in that regard – I possessed neither the hunger nor the skills. And then for so long it was only Rowena and finally Benedicta. I think that the latter was simply a madness of the gods – aided by the fact that for once it was not my big brother whom she professed to be in love with.

I know what Kai has been doing – acting like Cerebus guarding the gates of Hades. To say nothing of Lenni encouraging the children to play in the sty…. Once I suppose I would have been irked by the assumption that I cannot handle Benedicta adequately alone – but my earlier ensnarement by her tells its own cautionary tale.

Forewarned may be forearmed, yet as we ride further away from the village, I am still beset by memories. Here, I once told her to let the horse take her weight while learning to ride. There, she tumbled off, I laughed and she took me to task over what I found humorous. Across this meadow we galloped, just as we do now, her unbound hair flying, her delight borne back to me on the wind. Passing the tree where once a piece of blue cloth was caught, betokening her return. Finally, just as on that long-ago day, we stop at the top of the ridge to look down upon my land.

Smiling, Benedicta turns toward me in the saddle. “Help me down Arthur. I would walk a little with you.” Again it would be churlish to refuse. I dismount and walk to the side of her horse – and she slides down into the ring of my arms. Benedicta makes no attempt to move away. Standing here, I suddenly remember how she always smelt of lavender, as she does now, how cupping her small neat high breasts made her breath catch in her throat, her whimpering as my lips…. Benedicta’s eyes are very wide and very soft. ‘So” she whispers, ‘You cannot help but be reminded too.” And then her mouth bruises mine.

 

Part Four

“Fool.” The accusation from her winging fingers feels like a lash. I am hardly ever given such short shrift by my wife – no matter how deserving I may be. Lenni is standing at the table in her hut preparing a hare for dinner. As I watch she takes a sharp knife, slits its stomach and begins pulling the fur off over the back legs. “I’m sorry.” And I am – deeply profoundly sorry. The thought of Arthur and that viper alone together away from the village…… Grimly Lenni carves a deep groove into the hare’s feet with her knife and snaps them off. Then scores the animal from its ribs down to its bottom and reaching inside, pulls out its bloody innards and flings them into a bowl. I am still silent but not only now from self-reproach - I am also silent because I have just made out what is hanging in the darkest corner of the kitchen, behind the thyme and the rosemary….

I know that sometimes, sparingly, Lenni will use doses of that great creamy mushroom – on warriors so grievously wounded that they will not survive and are dying in agony, on women who have suffered brutal childbirths and are certain to endure harrowing lingering deaths. Now however the sight of it fills me with wintry dread. Lenni notices the direction of my gaze, sighs and wipes her grimy hands down the front of her sacking apron. “I’m truly sorry too – for calling you a fool. But don’t take me for one. Yes, as you would defend this village and everything beloved in it with your axe – so I would protect everything precious to me by any means – and the most precious thing in the world to me is you. And don’t think that I have not been sorely tempted, now as well as back then…..But I know how important this trade pact could be for our people. Moreover I trust you to make everything right.” When I put my arms around her, I realise it is my tears dampening Lenni’s cheeks…..

By the time they return I am almost overwrought. Benedicta dismounts, nods stiffly at me and disappears up to the guestquarters. Arthur leaps down from his horse, looking extremely pleased with himself. I round on him, relief warring with anger. “God’s teeth, what were you thinking?” My little brother continues to grin maddeningly. “Kai, my heart, calm yourself. I couldn’t spurn her request to simply go riding. Alright, Benedicta did what you expected - and she got no result. I told her that I have not looked at or touched another woman since my marriage – all true. Besides I could object on the grounds that she’s married now herself and Drusus Messor will be our trading partner. Did she arouse memories? Of course. Don’t tell me that Leesa doesn’t sometimes stir up a few dormant feelings on her way to the water trough.” I am positively weak with relief now. “Leesa has never been Benedicta - thank Jupiter.” Arthur runs a teasing finger down the bridge of my nose. “And my One God. Besides, the trade arrangements have been finalised now. Benedicta will travel back to Cornwall with Mark’s emissary tomorrow afternoon.”

But I watch her that night in the longhouse – watch the longing in those blue eyes when they are fixed on Arthur, sitting with his daughter in his lap. She is not a woman who has admitted defeat. She sits very still, listening to Arthur laughing with Kai. “Tomorrow we must ride up to see if there are any signs that the king boar has returned to his clearing. I would like to capture him before winter.” It is then that I make my decision. Quietly I sign to Kai to watch our boys - I need to go up to my hut and I will not be long. I know that I will be true to my word and indeed I am back in the longhouse soon enough. There is actually little to prepare since the necessary preparations were made several days ago…….

The next morning Benedicta is pleasant enough as she breaks her fast – yet I imagine that those patrician blue eyes are brooding and watchful. She tosses back her copious golden hair. “ I might go riding again a little later. To say farewell to this wonderful green land of yours.” Arthur tells her courteously that we will be back to see her off to Cornwall at midday. She is still sitting, thoughtfully nibbling on her bannock and honey when we ride out to the forest, up to the clearing where the king boar reign.

My little brother dismounts and starts to examine the undergrowth for signs that the boar have been here recently. I follow and we soon do indeed locate where a king beast has recently broken cover. But now I am somehow as restless as the autumnal wind that rustles the glowing canopy of red and gold above Arthur’s black head. Finally I just stand and stare at him, unflinchingly, - fraught with desire, my cock as hard and staunch as a ship’s timber.

Arthur turns to comment on something – then his gaze meets mine. The words die on his lips, unknowable, immediately forgotten. For a heartbeat we simply behold each other, from the foliage a robin pipes its sweet-sounding song – and then in one flying stride, Arthur is in front of me, his kiss setting me ablaze, his fingers frantically pulling at my breeches. It is an instinct as primal and raw as the beginning of time, as ancient as the roots of the birch tree against which I now lean, my arms flung around its trunk behind me, as if roped together in imploration.

In one smooth fierce movement Arthur takes me into his very wet mouth, a firm hand bolted to the base of my rigid shaft. He stays there for a few delirious seconds, then slowly slides back up to the top. Savagely he begins to suck. Lapping with long deep sweeps of his tongue, licking upwards in a flow of liquid fire. Only the substance of the tree still holds me upright - I am dizzy, spinning, entranced. I feel one of my little brother’s hands caressing my balls, his fingers running teasingly around my opening, one moist finger writhing its way inside my warm cleft.

The world starts to rush, thunder, pitch . All at once, I am one with Arthur, with the autumn, with the birch - assailed by mist, frost and smoke, overwhelmed by the roar of a gale, bathed in the softening of the sunshine, burnished by the terracotta and bronze of the turning leaves, nipped by the resinous bite of juniper berries, intoxicated as the boar runs on to the spear…….. Behind me there is a sudden crunch of dried leaves underfoot as if an animal has abruptly fled… the squall splinters into a thousand russet fragments….and Arthur catches my glistening seed on his consummate tongue.

Part Five

We ride back into the village just after noon, actually later than I had anticipated. I feel inordinately happy and Kai looks – well, let’s just say that Kai is smiling as only Kai can. Benedicta is already mounted ready to leave outside the longhouse, flanked by Mark’s emissary and her centurions. Sidesaddle again, ensconced in fine linen, a true princess of the blood. She gives me her most imperious stare. “My thanks for your hospitality – I will deliver the details of our trade pact to Drusus Messor.” Then, almost savagely, Benedicta knees her horse forward and rides out the palisade gate.

Kai frowns as he watches her party meander along beside the river. “Well, she didn’t leave in the best of moods. The trade agreement – do you think that it will stand?” I smile at my big brother. “Oh yes. The Romans’ empire is continuing to fall. Benedicta and her kind are barely clinging on to the glories of their past. Drusus Messor’s holdings in Gaul are plagued by marauding Goths and Vandals. In fact, he needs us more than we need him. The trade pact will certainly stand my Kai. Don’t worry. And Cerdig and the Picts had better look to their defences.” I look up to where Lenni is beckoning beside the longhouse door, looking contented for the first time in a week. “Now, come inside. It seems there is roast boar waiting for us.”

Benedicta is gone. I do not truly know why and I do not care. But I am not surprised when Kai wanders into the main room of the longhouse during the afternoon and sits down at the table beside me. Llud will be home soon and I am preparing one of his favourite dishes from the hare giblets and liver and heart. Kai chews thoughtfully on his thumb nail, watches the three children playing in the corner, stares at me as if uncertain how to begin. “Lenni did you….up in the woods something… happened… and I’m not sure but perhaps Benedicta may have….” I put my hand over his beautiful mouth for a moment. “It doesn’t matter now. What did Llud say the first time she came here? Rome will forgive anything but failure? She is a daughter of Rome – far too proud to admit to any failures – in the matter of trade or more personal. And as Arthur told you, she and her husband desperately need the support of the Celts.” Kai gives me the smile that makes me glow every time and kisses me in a way that makes me……well you must surely know, every time. I shoo him outside before he sees that it still makes me blush every time too.

And after all it was such a simple charm really that I strew last night when I left the longhouse – prepared just in case on the afternoon that Benedicta arrived, all its elements readily gathered in the forest behind our village. Holly for rebirth; rowan for the protection of the senses from enchantment and beguiling; birch for the bringing of true love and sweet passion’s fire. I was fully confident that Kai and Arthur would manage the rest – and I was right.

Rowena and Llud arrive home a few days later. To say that I am happy to see them… Rowena of course does not know – and now will never need to - that some of Arthur’s enthusiastic greeting, as he swings her from horseback, is born out of relief that she is simply so dissimilar to bloody Benedicta. When Llud dismounts I watch him look at Kai with raised eyebrows and Kai nod, grinning. The girl from Rome is gone again – with no piece of herself left behind this time, so she will not be returning. All superstitious Celtic nonsense of course, but still……. Busy making Kaitlin laugh, Rowena only mentions Benedicta almost as an afterthought. “Interesting woman” she says lightly. I make a rude gesture and Kai splutters into his cup of mead, earning us both a severe glance from Llud.

Yet a little while later, when I go outside for a moment to throw some scraps to the dogs, Rowena follows me. She tilts her face up to the starry sky and then turns to me smiling. “Oh Lenni, I always love to see Yorath, but I’m so happy to be home. So you got rid of the Princess from Rome who once thought to make herself Queen of the Celts? I trusted you not to have too many problems sending her smartly on her way.” I simply stare at her, gasping in amazement. “You’ve always known?” Rowena laughs. “Of course. Rumours reached me years ago up north – news that exciting travels fast. Let’s just pass over how frantic I became – I almost drove Yorath distraught. Then, remember the first time I came here after – Arthur with less hair than me because of the great scalp wound still healing on his head. “I fell down drunk in the stables at Yuletide” he said - the most unlikely story I’d ever heard. And Kai still looking as if he’d burst into tears if he was tapped too heartily on the shoulder. You treating him like a new born chick that has lost its mother. Llud tiptoeing everywhere. It was quite obvious that you’d all just survived a tempest.” She laughs again. “Kai did tell me a few vague things when I asked and Arthur admitted there had been someone when I pressed him, but that's all. Please don’t ever tell Arthur though Lenni. You know how he hates to look foolish – and he did more than make a fool of himself over that vain Roman creature. Although knowing that even Arthur can occasionally be an idiotic simpleton only somehow makes me love him more.” And we smile at each other in complete understanding.

Tonight the longhouse is loud and warm – and full of everything and everyone that I treasure most. There is Llud, delighting in Kaitlin and Kai’s boys, Rowena (and I do thank God every day that she is so often an adder-tongued shrew rather than a preening princess) and Lenni , heads together, chuckling over some secret that seems extraordinarily comical, my big brother lounging in the candlelight….. Benedicta was never a threat when set against all this – and setting her aside on that ridge above the village was as inevitable as the sun rising over the lake tomorrow. It has ever been so since my Kai threw those blue fragments on the fire…..and truly long before. You cannot let another tarry in a heart that has been forever given elsewhere …… I am still not sure what Lenni may or may not have done before Kai and I went seeking the king boar – and I am not concerned. The longhouse has always been a sanctuary anyway, always protected by the best, most powerful magic of all – the magic of love.


End file.
